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Captain in Calico. George Fraser MacDonald
Читать онлайн.Название Captain in Calico
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780008105587
Автор произведения George Fraser MacDonald
Жанр Приключения: прочее
Издательство HarperCollins
‘Major, I—’ Rackham was impatient to be away, but the burly Major had his arm in a bear-like grip. ‘There is someone I must see—’
‘All in good time, lad,’ Penner reproved him. ‘What? There’s no guarda costas behind ye now. Time is on our side, and your first hour as a pardoned man ye shall spend in my company. For I’ve much to tell you. No buts, lad. I’ll hear none of them. It would be rank mutiny, no less. Will you deny one of His Majesty’s officers?’ He released Rackham and stepped back, grinning like a schoolboy.
Rackham was intrigued in spite of himself. ‘A King’s officer?’
‘No less, John. A commissioned privateer, with His Majesty’s blessing, the Governor’s favour, a stout ship, and a clear conscience.’ He dropped his voice confidentially. ‘And making more than ever I did on the Account, too. It astonishes me. For years folk like you and I stood outside the law, gentlemen of fortune, as we called ourselves, and lucky we are to be still sound and sane. And what now? I take a Royal pardon, ply the same old trade – or nearly – and sleep sound o’ nights. I’ve a house of my own and half a dozen slaves, and I’m fair on the way to buying a plantation. It’s providence, so it is.’ And Major Penner complacently shrugged his massive shoulders and looked about him. The Governor and his aides, followed by the gentry, had retired to the Fort to partake of refreshments, and the square was given over to the throng. Penner and Rackham were surrounded by the jostling crowd who had come to congratulate the redeemed pirates and bear them off to celebrate in the New Providence taverns. The dust they raised was irritating, and Penner could hardly make himself heard above the babble of voices.
‘Come where we don’t have to talk as though we were hailing a main-top,’ he said, and taking Rackham by the arm he led him along the edge of the square and through the inner gate of the Fort. A broad stone stairway led up to the parapet upon which the Governor and his company were being regaled: half-way up there was an embrasure in the wall, and it was into this and on to a narrow stone seat that Penner drew him.
‘Before we go aloft, I’ll tell you what is in my mind,’ he confided, settling himself on the stonework. ‘It’s this way. Since last night, when I heard you were taken, I’ve been on the watch for you, for fear Burgess of Hornigold would clap their hooks into you. I’m privateering, as I said, and good sailormen aren’t too plentiful. I want you, John, as sailing master. In fact, if I had the pick of the coast, I wouldn’t take another. You share in the prizes next to me, and in a couple of voyages you’re a made man.’ He paused. ‘Well, what d’ye say? It’ll be as easy to you as drawing breath. You’re young, you know the life, there’s none of the risks of piracy – well, just a few, say – cruises are short and the money’s in it.’ He waited eagerly for Rackham’s answer.
Rackham smiled and shook his head. Counting as he was on marrying an heiress, it was impossible to entertain serious thoughts of the relatively paltry sums that could be picked up privateering. True, he had not a penny to his name, but he had owned little more two years before when he had successfully courted Kate Sampson.
Penner saw his smile and groaned. ‘There’s a woman in it,’ he said. ‘I know from the face of ye.’
‘You’re right, Major,’ said Rackham. ‘A woman it is. And much as I thank you, I’ll want to see more of my wife than I would if I was at sea.’
‘A wife, d’ye say?’ Penner raised his eyebrows. ‘Well, what’s a wife? I’ve one myself – here, in Providence – and to be sure there’s another in Galway, but does that stand between me and my livelihood? If it’s marriage you’re contemplating, amn’t I showing you the very way to make the money for it?’
Rackham shook his head. ‘I’ve been away too long. I’d have been with her now, likely, but for you, trying to make my peace again. No offence,’ he added. ‘But the sea’s not for me.’
Penner bit his thumb. ‘Well, well, I’ll not deny I’m sorry. You’d have been a godsend to me, Johnny lad. But there, I wish ye success with your lady. And if she should refuse you, be sure I won’t.’ He stood up. ‘And now, let’s be joining the ladies and gentlemen and wetting our tongues. You’ll have a glass to toast you home?’
Rackham glanced uncertainly upwards towards the parapet, and Penner read his thoughts and laughed.
‘You’re afraid ye’re not yet sufficiently pardoned to go abroad among the ladies and gentlemen of Providence society? Man, this pardon isn’t a gradual thing, like taking physic or getting drunk. You’re a free citizen now. Besides, you’re in my company, which is a passport into any society in the Caribbean. Give us your arm.’
‘But my clothes—’
‘Will be as meat and drink to the old women and their daughters,’ retorted Penner. ‘They’ll be agog at the wicked Captain Rackham.’ And he led his still unwilling companion up the stairway.
As they mounted the last step Rackham had the presence of mind to pull off his headscarf and so go a little way towards rendering his appearance less piratical. Then Penner was leading him towards the groups about the low tables shaded by gargantuan umbrellas in the hands of slave children. It was hardly a scene of elegance, such as Charles Town might have provided, but it could discomfit Rackham, in spite of his friend’s assurances. He saw surprised faces turned towards him, heard the murmur of conversation die away, and wanted to turn and run. But Penner’s hand was clasping his arm as in a vice, and then he saw something which stopped him dead, in spite of the Major’s efforts. Ten yards away, standing beside a table, in conversation with someone whose back was to him, was Jonah Sampson. And seated on the other side of the table, her face white as she looked at him, was Kate.
For a moment he stood stock-still, powerless to move or heed the Major’s tugging at his sleeve, and then Penner found himself brushed aside as Rackham swept impetuously past him and grasped the hands of Mistress Sampson, who had half-risen at his approach.
She cast one anguished look at her father, but it was lost on Rackham. He stood holding her wrists, oblivious of all around him. The scandalised gasp from the company never sounded for him; if he had heard it he would not have heeded. He was momentarily lost in a world which contained only Kate Sampson and himself.
It was the little merchant who broke in upon his idyll.
‘Good God! You, sir! Have you lost your senses? D’you know what you do?’ Outraged, he thrust himself between them.
Confronted with that empurpling indignation, Rackham was made aware of the scene he had created. He strove to make amends for what he conceived to be a minor breach of good manners.
‘Master Sampson, your pardon. I had not thought to see you, or your daughter. I was moved, sir, I –.’ He broke off, catching sight of Kate’s face. The contempt and mortification he saw there startled him. That he had made a fool of himself was becoming increasingly plain, but that was not an unforgivable sin, so far as he was aware. The events which had followed their last meeting – his apparent flight with Vane, his seeming renunciation of the promises he had made to her – could hardly dispose the Sampsons to welcome his return, but there must be something more than that to account for the white cold fury in Kate’s look and the apoplectic surgings of her father.
Bewildered, he looked from one to the other, then at the faces of the other guests. Not one but was regarding him with disgust and indignation. And then a hand descended on his arm and a voice, cold and hard as a sword blade, spoke in his ear.
‘You make very free